


It's All Your Fault

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bickering, Episode: s01e05 Don't Speak, Gen, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Michael and Isobel are stranded in the desert after Max drives off.





	It's All Your Fault

Michael and Isobel stared at the back of the truck as Max drove away. They coughed a little, blinking the dust out of their eyes. Silence fell between them as they processed what had just happened. To their horror, the decade-old secret they’d kept from Max had been uncovered, and Max had hurried off to find Liz.

Isobel put a hand on her hip and glared at Michael. “You just let him drive off, without us! What the hell, Michael?”

He put up his hands. “Hey, you’re the one who told him Liz was in danger. What’d you expect, he’d stay here and come up with some sort of intelligent plan?”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “You gave him your keys – and your gun! This is on you.”

Sighing, he threw back his head as if the sky could give them any answers. “We wouldn’t have come out here if it wasn’t for you,” he said, a low blow even though his delivery was half-hearted.

“But you did come out here.”

She dropped her hand from her hip and sat down on the ground. She’d get her nightgown even more dirty, but it was the last thing she cared about right now. The harsh desert sun, when neither of them had hats, sunscreen, or even sunglasses was a bigger problem. And the only thing they had to drink was the bottle of nail polish remover she still clutched in her hand.

“We’re going to burn out here,” she pointed out.

“Not if the snakes get us first,” he said, glancing at her. Then he reached into his pocket. “I’ve got my phone; I’ll call Noah. We told him you were at yoga or something.”

Before she could tell him not to do it, that it’d be impossible to explain to her husband why they were stranded out here, he groaned.

“What?” she demanded.

“Flat battery.” Joining her in sitting on the dry ground, he snatched the nail polish remover and gulped some down before handing it back. “We’ll have to hitchhike into town.”

She stared at him, aghast. “Look at me,” she said, gesturing at her appearance. “I’ll be murdered, or worse—”

“Relax, Iz. There’s a good chance we’ll know someone passing by.”

She scowled. “There’s a good chance a murder victim knows the person who kills them.”

He shook his head and got to his feet. “I’m gonna start walking. And if someone drives by, I’ll catch a lift. See ya when you get back.”

“Wait.” She sighed, then stood up, straightening her shoulders with determination. Walking ahead of Michael, she said, “Hope you can catch up.”

“We tracked you down all the way out here,” he said as he joined her. “Following you back will be easy in comparison.”

She glanced back at him and smiled, giving him a nod. It was their way of saying thank you. He nodded back. He’d do anything for her, whether that meant lying to Max or Noah or the police, or driving all over Roswell to find her. She hoped he knew she’d do anything for him too, no matter how much either of them complained.

“Come on then,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t lag behind.”

“Don’t worry, Isobel. I wouldn’t look at your ass if you paid me.”

Scoffing, she walked on. Michael kept up with her the whole way.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Any fandom, stranded in the middle of nowhere and blaming each other" for [Friends will be friends](https://ruuger.dreamwidth.org/1054506.html), a friendship ficathon.


End file.
